


Roses

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Post-Serenity, Riverspeak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-30
Updated: 2005-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River made a change, all right. More than a few of the crew are starting to notice it now. (Sequel to the story <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/57153">"Grow.")</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses

The roses beneath the stairs were small, but growing nicely. River enjoyed spending time with her flowers and her fruits. On the next stop, River wanted carrots, potatoes, yams and beans. That would round out their protein mash nicely.

River was proud of herself. She had created a resurrection, and it was to benefit the others as well. It was hers, only hers, this duty. Oh, Kaylee tended the fruits, especially the strawberries. Inara helped with watering and was willing to help with pollination. But River was proud of her idea, and protected it fiercely. The miniature arboretum was her idea, her duty, her addition to the ship. It was her way of being useful.

Jayne watched her as she danced in the cargo bay, sometimes helped her water the plants. He was always very careful with her roses. He was as equally careful with her, almost as if he thought she was fragile. He was always gentle when he kissed her, and he only ever gave her the lightest of touches. Jayne had not even tried to be forward with her at all, which was rather disappointing, really. River had hoped he would be forward with her, that he would take advantage and teach her all it meant to be a woman.

But he was _courting_ her, of all things. It was almost endearing.

River waited until he was watering the roses. She walked up behind him and looped her arms behind him. Jayne stiffened for a fraction of a second before realizing it was River.

"Well, if it ain't my moony girl."

"I should be your woman," River crooned into his ear. One of her hands dipped down to between Jayne's legs. "This should be mine, Jayne-bee. Your River-flower wants it."

Jayne was startled, she could tell. He had jumped against her, muscles tightening. He was trying to be good the best way he knew how, trying to take what she was offering without anyone else knowing. They wouldn't approve, they wouldn't understand. "Now, don't go sayin' stuff like that. People'll hear ya."

"But you're my bee. And all good honeybees help their flowers grow."

Jayne turned in her arms, facing her. His eyes were dilated, and not just from the shadows beneath the stairs. Good. "It ain't something to rush, flowergirl."

She smiled at him. "But you dream of me, you want me." She kissed him lightly on the mouth. "I want you, too."

His body reacted instantly, and River grinned at Jayne. He smiled at her, a little sheepishly. "Okay. I own it. But it right is just... You're a lot younger'n me. And little. I'm a big man. A _big_ man, _dong ma?_ In everything. And I just don't wanna hurt ya.. You're a little thing. I don't want to break nothing you might need later."

River only smiled at him gently. She knew his thoughts. The others were still fragile, they still weren't back and whole, the resurrection wasn't quite complete yet. He was afraid they would hurt him for liking her, hurt him for wanting her. "I won't break. I'm tougher than I look. You won't break me, Jayne," River said, voice light and soft. Her smile was gentle, promising sensual pleasure. She had never seemed so sane.

Jayne seized her mouth in a crushing kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. One hand fisted her hair, keeping her close and not allowing her to move. River responded enthusiastically, her arms around him tight. When the kiss ended, she looked up at him, gasping for breath. She grinned, her lips puffed slightly from the kiss. "I like that."

He watched her carefully for a moment, then laid a hand over one of her breasts. They were small but well-formed, the breasts of a dancer or athlete. He didn't usually take a fancy to something small, but he had to admit he liked just about everything that was feminine. Jayne dragged his thumb over the nipple, watching her mouth open in a gasp. "Yeah, I think you do."

"Find my honey," River begged.

To anyone else, this wouldn't have made any sense. But now he realized that some of her speech actually did refer to something almost understandable. It felt as though they were speaking in code. Jayne felt almost special.

"The doc won't like it."

"Simon is taking Kaylee's honey," River gasped with certainty. "He won't know. And I can let you have a taste if I want you to."

The low, husky voice went straight to Jayne's loins. "Mmm. I like the sound o' that right there." He rolled his thumb back and forth, a slow grin forming. "I like it a lot." He other hand dipped down to her hip, cradling her slightly. "You're sure?"

She shifted her hips so that they were right up against his. "Yes. This flower wants her bee to taste her honey."

He kissed her again, hungrily, as though he could devour her whole. She responded, mimicking his actions. With a groan, he wrenched himself away. "My bunk," he ground out. "And don't be loud or nothin'."

With a laugh, River watched him race up the stairs from the cargo bay. She hopped out of her alcove after plucking a tiny but perfect rose blossom, then floated up the stairs toward the crew hallway. There was a soft, dreamy smile on her face in expectation as she walked. He would be gentle, she knew. He had enough buried goodness deep down to make it special for her. And once he saw for himself how well he could handle her, he could stop worrying. He cared for his weapons, he cared for her roses. There was a capacity for gentleness with tricksy things; guns and roses both hid their violence beneath a veneer of beauty. River was no different. And once Jayne understood, things would be _interesting._

Flowers never got stung by their bees, only dangerous interlopers.

He would be a careful little bee, and she would be a wonderful blossom.

River heard voices from the mess hall, and cocked her head sideways to listen. Zoe and Mal were there, seated at the table. She could almost make out the faint scent of flower and coffee wafting down the hall. She stopped to listen.

Zoe was holding a sprig of the forget-me-nots that River had given her nearly three weeks before, saying it had been an Easter gift. She had thought about those odd but nearly sane words, and had decided that River had indeed been right. Mal had stopped by for some coffee and had noticed her staring at the tiny blue blossoms. "Where you get that?" he had asked.

"River gave me a gift when we got those seeds planetside," Zoe murmured, lifting them up. "I've been thinking some since then."

Mal sat down at the table across from her, mug in hand. "What of?"

"Have you ever really noticed her since Miranda?"

"Seems calmer and saner to me. That goes a long way in my book," Mal said with a nod. He sipped the coffee. "And this idea of hers was a pretty good one. Never thought of it before."

"Would it have gone over well if it had?" Zoe asked, lips quirked in a wry smile.

"Don't reckon so. Hired hands like us got no time to be pullin' weeds."

She dropped her eyes back to the flowers. "She's right, though. These are the color of his eyes. Just spot-on right." Zoe looked up at Mal and handed them over. "Three months since Miranda."

Mal took the flowers from Zoe and nodded slowly. "I smelled the incense. I knew it for what it was. It's the mourning period, still."

"Yeah. Feels almost like waking up sometimes, but then I look over and nobody's there. And it's not a dream at all." Zoe looked down at the mug of green tea she had in front of her. "It doesn't get better with time. That part's a lie."

But you learn, Mal wanted to say. You learn how to live with it, don't you?

He remained silent. Now was not the time for words.

"Have you noticed how much better she is now, after Miranda?" Zoe asked softly, not looking up at Mal. He was almost confused by the change in topic, but he would allow it. "She looks better, almost happy." Zoe looked up with a sad smile. "I'd almost say she was love-sick."

Mal was startled. "Say again?"

"Have you noticed her any in the past three months?"

"The _go se_ hasn't hit the fan, so I guess I haven't really," Mal admitted. "I just kept one eye open if that Operative had been lying."

"The wanted posters are gone." Zoe took a sip of her tea. It had long since grown cold, but she drank it down anyway, bitter though it was. "I've been checkin'. I ain't slacked just 'cause I've been grieving."

"Never said you did," Mal replied. He took a sip of coffee. "So who she's sweet on?"

"Jayne."

Coffee sprayed out over the table. "Somehow I don't think you're joking," Mal said after a moment, not seeing a smile on Zoe's face. "Since when?"

"I've been watching things 'round the ship. Thinking. You see more when you're not part of it," Zoe said simply. "I never noticed things before. The dust on his dinosaurs bothered me most, but I couldn't bring myself to touch them until two weeks ago. They're clean now."

Mal was quiet. "The doc doesn't know."

"He's with Kaylee, and she's just too happy to notice. But I've seen his eyes on her and I've seen her eyes on him. Everyone talks around me. All but you, sir," Zoe added. She took another sip of her tea. "It was fine at first. I didn't want to talk. If I talked, it made it real. I wasn't ready for that. Maybe drunk on that _xi nu_ whiskey you had hidden in the cabinet. But that's different, that's like being on the line. That's not real." Zoe looked up, shrugging. "So I've been looking, lately. Noticing things. I'm almost feeling like living again. You know how scary it is, out of all of us."

"Some things have just got to be done," Mal said quietly. "If you don't go on, their memory dies along with you."

Zoe nodded. "Just so."

"You reckon we should tell the doctor?" Mal asked quietly.

Zoe smiled suddenly, a real smile. "Now why would we go on and spoil their fun like that?"

Mal hadn't seen her smile since Miranda, not as though there was a soul behind it. "Well, now, if you put it like that, I suppose we can keep it for a bit."

"That's how I see it. The girl should have a little fun once or twice." A shadow flitted across Zoe's expression. "It must be like this feeling, what she goes through. That being here, but not being a part of anything. It probably makes the crazy worse. It probably brings it out of her, makes her act up. But now we know along with her, and now she has something that makes her part of us. I think we help keep her sane."

Mal covered one of her hands with his. "You think we help keep you with us?"

Zoe smiled at him almost sadly. "I ain't never gonna leave. Ain't never gonna die. I got these _feng le_ flowers from the _feng le_ girl, I got a boat full of people that need a sure shot like me to get the job done. I got work to do, sir, and I aim to do it."

"Good to hear," Mal said, patting her hand softly.

"And you?" Zoe added, as Mal threw back the last of the mug. "What about you?"

"I'm the captain of this boat. I'm not going anywhere."

"I've seen your eyes, too," Zoe said quietly. "When do you get what you want?"

Mal sat back in the chair. "And what have I got to give someone like that?" His voice was pained; it was a topic the two of them had tacitly agreed never to discuss. But some lines had to be crossed at some point, and he supposed this was as good a time as any.

"Ever think that maybe just yourself is enough? Ever think that you got to hold onto what makes you happiest in this 'verse?" Zoe's eyes bored into his. "It never lasts long enough. You gotta take what you can, when you can."

"I reckon you're right," Mal said slowly. He traced the rim of his mug slowly. "But how do you start something like that? How do you make a go of it and not ruin it?"

"Tell her," Zoe said softly. "Just tell her."

Mal nodded, then looked up at Zoe. "He was a fine man. Wash was a worthy pilot for this boat, and I ain't never seen better before or since." He tucked the flowers into Zoe's hair, just near her left ear. "I was mad 'cause I thought he'd make you leave the boat. And then where'd I be?"

Zoe snorted. "As if I'd ever leave my captain behind."

"You chose him over me back at Niska's."

"Someone needed to pilot it back to get you," Zoe said simply. "We don't leave a man behind if we can help it. And we don't break up family."

Mal smiled at her. "No, we don't. Thanks, Zoe." He dropped a hand onto her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Don't know what I'd do without you."

Zoe patted his hand lightly. "You need someone to watch your back."

Mal nearly bumped into River as he got out of the mess hall. He took in her hazy smile and backed up a step. "You doin' okay there?"

She nodded. "You're a good man, Captain, even when you're trying not to be."

"You readin' me?" Mal asked, suspicious.

River shook her head, hair flying. "Just noticing things when it's quiet."

Mal eased up a bit. Zoe had often said something similar. "You be careful where your eyes go, little River. Sometimes it ain't what it looks like."

"And sometimes it is," she said sweetly. "Sometimes everything is simple, Euclidian geometry, and symmetry is all you really need."

Mal didn't pretend to understand what she had just said. "Okay then. But you come to me if something happens. Or to your brother."

"She waits for you," River said, looking over her shoulder toward Inara's shuttle. "She always has, if only you could see."

"And you?" Mal insisted, feeling oddly protective. "Are you sure?"

"I understand, and I comprehend," she said, smiling. "I think I finally do."

"All right then. But I mean it. Things don't go proper, you tell me. Or the doc." She nodded, and scurried down the crew's hallway. Mal sighed. "I must be outta my mind," he muttered, heading toward Inara's cabin. "I really must be outta my mind."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Inara said quietly, smiling as she opened the shuttle door to let him in. "Is there something you wanted to see me about?"

Mal took in the shuttle, its silks and satins and exotic Companion items. It had taken nearly a month to get everything together just right, just the way he had remembered it. "I guess... I don't rightly know," Mal said, running a hand through his hair. "I don't think I've known for a long time what to do about you."

Inara's eyebrow lifted. "How is this my problem?"

Mal caught himself before he made a snappy remark. She didn't know what he was thinking, and likely thought he came to argue. There was only one Reader on this ship, and she wasn't in the shuttle with him. He took a deep breath. "I don't think right around you. I don't think right when you're not around. I don't know how to handle this, feelin' like I do."

Inara was close, too close. Yet she couldn't bring herself to move just yet. "Like what?"

"Would it be against the rules to kiss a Companion if you ain't who she's supposed to be with?"

Something like hope fluttered within Inara's chest. "I think it would be."

"Would you be against me breaking the rules, then?"

She grinned at him. "I think that's what you do best."

He pulled her in for a kiss, hoping the grin meant what he hoped it meant. She responded, hands moving down his back.

"What took you so long?" she asked when their kiss ended.

"Thought it was a losing battle. I've been in one o' those too many."

Inara cupped his face in her hands. "It's not a war, Mal. It never was."

He covered her hands with his. "Sometimes you gotta learn it the hard way."

***

Jayne paced his bunk. He had thought she was right behind him. Maybe it was a joke. If so, it were a poor one, and he didn't appreciate it one bit. His nerves felt tight, that same feeling he got right before a job went south. This is what he got for being honest. This is what he got for trying to do right for a change.

There was a gentle knock on his bunk door. He hit the button swiftly, and it slid open.

River climbed down carefully, cradling something in her hand. She hit the button to lock the door shut, then turned to look at Jayne with a soft smile on her face. "Had to occupy the others, too. And it wasn't something they didn't want, they just were too afraid to say."

Jayne didn't even acknowledge it. Most of her comments slid right past his mind without even making a mark. He didn't mind. "I almost thought you were jokin' on me."

River shook her head solemnly and held out her hand. "I went back for this." She opened her hand slowly, revealing the perfect rosebud. "For you. It's us."

Jayne plucked the rose from her hand very carefully. "Huh. Never been given a flower by a girl before. That's new."

She smiled at him. "No thorns for you."

He put aside the rose where it wouldn't be stepped on. Truth be told, he kinda liked that she got him something nice. Nobody did nice things for him but his family, and nobody expected nice things from him but his family. It was nice that somebody thought he might actually be worth the time and effort, even if it was Crazy.

She was kinda nice to look at when she was smiling at him. Much better than when she had the knife, though now he understood what that had been all about.

He looped his arms around her, bringing her in for a kiss. She readily accepted, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks almost as gently as he was holding her. "Not gentle. This River-flower won't break. I can bend."

Jayne didn't know how to think his way around that. Well, he hadn't ever been known as a thinker, and he certainly didn't have any fancy book smarts. But he knew guns and women and fighting, and he knew how they all worked. He knew enough not to let a girl ask him twice for what she needed.

He was hungry when he kissed her, his hands tight on her breasts. He stroked her lips with his tongue before beginning to suck on them. She let out a small cry, and ran her fingers through his hair. Jayne ran his teeth over the edge of her lip, softly so as not to draw blood. River was a lithe dancer, twisting in his arms, nails skating across his arms. "I can bend," River moaned as Jayne's teeth closed over her earlobe. "Bend me."

_Aiya,_ the girl had a voice that twisted Jayne into knots. He took the opportunity to drag his hand down to cup her breast and rub his thumb gently over it. Her gaze snapped to his face, and her left hand caught his wrist. "I can bend," she repeated, voice firm. "I won't break, I can take it all."

Jayne caught her about the waist and spun her away from the door. He pushed off the dress, and River helped him. It puddled around her ankles, soft shimmering blue. She had on a thin white chemise and plain white cotton panties. Nothing fancy, nothing flashy, nothing like the girls lining up in the whorehouses on every dirty rock in the black. Yet the expanse of fresh skin, soft and almost gleaming, did more for him now. He suckled her breast through the chemise, his teeth nipping and coaxing the nipple to its full peak. His tongue traveled from one breast to the other, one hand moving up to the breast he left behind. One of his hands moved down to the junction of her thighs, just over the thin white cotton. River made a soft mewling noise, and reached down to touch his shoulders. Her hand tightened convulsively in response to his teeth grazing past her skin. "Yes," she hissed, head thrown back. "Bend me."

Jayne inhaled deeply at the rough sound of her voice. She smelled like sex, and whatever might've been thinking in his brain immediately shut down. No more thinking, not that Jayne was known for it anyways. He dug his way inside her panties, and his fingers moved around until he found her clit. He began stroking it gently. This he knew had to be started gently; too rough and a girl would kill you. He could hear her breath come in gasps, could feel her hips begin to buck against his hand. Jayne pressed his face against her belly, breathing her in. River may have had everyone thinking she was just a girl, but she smelled like a woman.

Ashes on his skin, the afterimages of other girls and other wants, the remnants of dying hope and the dust of a planet long since forgotten. River could taste it all on her tongue, her thoughts spinning inside of his and whipping out along an imaginary wind. Roses, climbing a split rail fence and tended so carefully by Jayne's mother, her one indulgence in a life full of sacrifice. Roses were a special thing. They got cut down only for the most special of occasions.

And she had given him one, cut one of her own precious roses to give him, to mark him as special, to tell him this was worth it.

Jayne could feel River's body begin to tremble. He moved his other hand to her back, steadying her as he continued to stroke her clit in those maddening slow circles. He wouldn't let her fall, not until she was good and ready.

River was making little mewling noises, her hands at the back of Jayne's neck. His hand slid down her back and rested at the slight curve above her buttocks. He wasn't about to rush this. She was close, so very close, and he wasn't about to change anything just yet. When her body began to tighten, Jayne picked up the pace. He kissed her again, fiercely, possessively. It trapped her cries as she came, arching against his hand and heavy with the scent of desire. He caught her body as it loosened, and laid her down on his bed. He quickly stripped her panties from her slack legs, breathing in deeply. Jayne had to admit, he liked the smell of sex. It always did something for him, made him feel comfortable. He watched as River took off her chemise, her limbs moving as though she were underwater.

"Doing good?" he asked, hands on her bare hips. She felt so fragile.

River nodded, a wide grin on her face. "Isn't there more? I'm not all bent yet."

"Oh, you'll be bent, all right," Jayne growled. He was imagining her bent over his bed, and the thought of it got him even harder.

"Please," River whispered.

Jayne pressed kisses to the insides of her thighs and edged them apart. He knelt between her legs, basking in the scent of her. He licked his way up to the tangle of curling damp hair, then licked the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her legs trembled, and River made some sort of squeaking sound. He swirled his tongue around her swollen clit, hearing her moan. He slid a finger inside of her wet heat. She was tight, and it wasn't hardly going to be fun for her in a bit. Still, it didn't mean she couldn't have a little right now. Jayne slid another finger inside of River, and she let out a keening cry, twisting beneath him. Her legs moved restlessly, in time to her whimpers. She was wet, slick against his fingers, and he moved with practiced precision. He'd learned from professionals what to do, and it sure came in handy now.

"Jayne," River whimpered, breath fracturing across his name. "Jayne..."

He could feel her tremble beneath his lips and tighten around his fingers. He moved faster, a touch more pressure, sucking on her clit. Just a bit more, and then River came with a sharp cry, spasming around his fingers.

Jayne felt River's eyes on him as he sat up. Their eyes locked as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking off her juices. "I like the taste of your honey, flowergirl," he murmured, moving to position himself over her.

Her eyes were round, her lips parted wide. "Oh."

_The genius brain must've stopped, _Jayne thought. He smiled at her. "Ready?"

River nodded eagerly, and began to lift herself up to her elbows. "Oh yes. I want to see...."

Jayne pushed himself deeply into her, and River made a choking sound. Jayne held her steady, and caught her eye. "You doin' okay?" She nodded at him, eyes beginning to water. "Best get that over with at once, right?"

"It's like a rose thorn," she whispered in a pained voice, clutching his arms tightly as she let herself fall backward. Her hair spilled out beneath her, dark waves on Jayne's pillow. "I thought I was the flower, but you are."

"Ain't nobody ever called me a flower before."

River closed her eyes and felt her body begin to relax. Deep breathing. In and out, lengthen and strengthen, moist and wet. She opened her eyes and smiled at Jayne's worried expression. "It's all a matter of balance," she told him earnestly. "When I can breathe again, the weight of the 'verse will lift and let me be free."

"And here I thought we was talkin' 'bout roses."

"We are," River said simply. She reached up and touched Jayne's face. "You see it, don't you?"

He had no _gorram_ idea what she was talking about, so he started thrusting into her with slow strokes instead. Her breath caught, her eyes dilated and her mouth dropped open. "Does it hurt, flowergirl?"

She couldn't make up her mind. "I... I can't tell," she admitted after a moment.

"I'll take it as a no," Jayne growled. He moved faster now, harder and deeper. He drew River's legs up and around his waist, then fell forward to lean on his forearms. She was tight, a hot little fist of warm wetness around him. She weren't schooled, but it was just as good as any he'd had before. Her body clenched down tight around his, and he could feel it as intense waves of pleasure. River's eyes were locked on his, her hips tilted up to meet him, to draw him even deeper inside of her.

It felt like a supernova when he came.

Jayne dimly felt her arms circle him when he settled down on top of her. She was little, but she was comfy, and she certainly didn't seem broken. "I like bending," she whispered.

"Yeah. Loads of fun."

River tugged on a lock of Jayne' hair. "Now you can bend me, instead of those other girls."

"We'll see, flowergirl. I ain't movin' just yet."

Grinning, River settled in to sleep. She dreamt of roses growing up along a split rail fence, bright red against a backdrop of dusty brown dirt. She was dancing in her red dress and bare feet, roses in her hair. Jayne was watching her from the porch, keeping an eye on her. When he was watching her, it was safe to dance.

The End.


End file.
